


A little broken, a little new

by JLaLa



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Complete, District 12 Everlark, F/M, Loss of Virginity, One Shot, Post-Mockingjay, everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLaLa/pseuds/JLaLa
Summary: Growing back together will not be easy, but maybe they can find one another in this crumbling home that is theirs. Post-Mockingjay.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 218





	A little broken, a little new

**Author's Note:**

> So an anon requested that I write a one-shot based off Taylor Swift’s “Lover” and I took this prompt very liberally, meaning I listened to the song while writing. You may see some familiar lines.
> 
> There is another song, listed below, that also inspired this one-shot and the title.

_“Can I go where you go?  
Can we always be this close forever and ever?_

_-Taylor Swift “Lover”_

_With each year, our color fades  
Slowly, our paint chips away  
But we will find the strength  
And the nerve it takes  
To repaint and repaint and repaint every day…_

_-Sleeping at Last “North”_

****

**A little broken, a little new**

Katniss fixes their bed methodically, fluffing the pillows before pulling the handmade quilt over the mattress and folding the excess back. Once upon a time, tasks such as fixing the bed were the furthest thing from her mind.

However, time has passed since the Rebellion. She and Peeta have grown and matured—they’re committed to one another. The resident count of the house has gone from two to four in just a few years.

Their children are in school now; Rye, their son, just starting about a week ago. Before then, the bed would remain a mess because their son would come running in, jumping on Peeta, and begging him for breakfast, since Katniss can’t cook anything without the meal having a bit of char to it. Or, Willow would come asking where her missing sock or skirt had gone—their daughter could be a bit of a scatterbrain.

Now, it’s just quiet

Peeta is at the bakery, leaving every morning to drop off the kids and continuing onto the Mellark Bakery, a re-established business. Peeta is popular, his friendly and open nature bringing in more business than his ornery mother ever did.

Katniss continues to hunt, only stopping during the late part of each of her pregnancies. It still gives her a thrill to be out in the woods along unbridled nature where she can reminisce over pleasant and not-so-pleasant memories. Any game not used by her family or a much older Haymitch are given to the local grocer or a family going through a rough patch.

Finishing with the bed, she smooths the quilt before laying back.

Her gaze goes to the solitary mark on the ceiling; it’s been there since she moved into this house with her mother and Prim.

Long ago, she and Peeta meant to paint over the spot before deciding to keep it—for reasons.

Also, because they are too busy and easily distracted if they happen to be alone in bed for more than five minutes.

Like last night—after the kids went to bed.

She’s more tired than she thought.

Before Katniss realizes, she’s asleep.

++++++

Peeta’s footsteps are hesitant as he steps in the house.

“Are you sure that you want me to stay here?”

Katniss turns to him; he looks much better than the last time they saw one another—before killing Coin and her trying to take her own life. His cheeks have filled out, but the chiseled line of his jaw remains.

Peeta looks like the boy that she once knew. However, his eyes are drawn and fearful—of what and who, she doesn’t know. She suspects that she is part of the reason that he looks so scared.

Katniss chooses to ignore his question.

“The house needs a little work. Maybe between me and you, we can turn it into something less....”

Broken? Suffocating?

Because entering this house everyday brings the rawness of those feelings out of her.

She turns to the man still standing by the front door. “The primroses in the front were a good start.”

Peeta looks surprised. “You think?”

She nods wordlessly.

“Why are you doing this?” he questions suddenly.

“Because…” Katniss looks around the dusty, war-torn home. “…I’m not really sure. I have the space and you—”

“Don’t have anywhere to go,” Peeta finishes downheartedly.

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

He picks up his bag, blue eyes on her. “You were thinking it.”

Katniss can’t help but smile. “Maybe.” She leads them towards the stairs. “Let me show your room.”

++++++

A week later, there’s a knock against her bedroom doorway.

Peeta stands awkwardly outside her room, staring at her in bed. “Hi.”

“You can come in.”

It’s just about that time for her to make an attempt at actual sleep. Of course, it will be in vain.

She doesn’t sleep—too many nightmares behind her eyes. Nights are the hardest in District 12 because no one hears your screams. She understands now why Victors’ Village was placed a good distance away from the main part of town.

“There’s a mark on my ceiling,” Peeta tells her. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” His eyes go up to her own ceiling, finding nothing. “I think I’d like to paint over it.”

“That’s a good idea,” Katniss says. “Maybe we can go into town tomorrow and you can buy some paint?”

They haven’t left the house since his return, both tiptoeing around one another, trying to not trigger the other person. She hears his nightmares at night, but never mentions them during breakfast. He doesn’t say anything when she disappears for hours to cry in the woods.

“I didn’t want to overstep my bounds,” he reasons. “This is your house.”

“This is our house. We make the rules.”

The words come out before Katniss realizes what she’s implied.

Their relationship—played out for all of Panem to see—is merely a footnote in their complicated history. Katniss honestly doesn’t know how to care for him without the fear of death to herself or her family. She doesn’t know how to care without expectations.

“Oh.” Peeta contemplates her words. “Maybe I can paint the other rooms too?”

“Of course, but I’ll help.” Katniss looks down at the quilt on her bed as she makes the offer. “If you’d like.”

“I’d like that.”

++++++

Their trip to town is delayed by a rainstorm that reminds them of their time in the cave. Instead, they huddle in the living room, wrapped in blankets, with cups of tea to warm them.

“It’s weird to be doing this,” Katniss says.

“I know,” Peeta agrees. “We’re not waiting for a Career to come tearing in here to kill us.”

“Or expecting a tracker jacker to sting us into a hallucination.”

He laughs and Katniss tears her eyes away from the dusty coffee table to look at him.

It is nice to hear his laugh, rough and low. It’s a man’s laugh now, and she won’t admit that it stirs something inside her. Something that she believed to be long dead.

Katniss doesn’t know what to make of him.

“Was any of it real?” he suddenly asks her. “That time in the cave? The beach?”

“The kiss?” She sits back, staring at the table in front of her. Kneeling suddenly, Katniss uses her sleeve to wipe the dust off it and reminds herself to grab some furniture polish when they can go into town.

“Yes. Any of them?”

There’s a tinge of resignation, as if he knows that she’s going to hurt him with her answer.

“Real,” she croaks out.

“The cave or the beach?”

“Both…all of it.” Her eyes don’t leave the now-glossy surface. “Because I didn’t remember the cameras were there. It was just us. For just a moment, you took me out of those arenas.”

There’s a pregnant silence.

Did she just scare him off? Isn’t that what she wanted?

No. Katniss doesn’t want to be alone.

She doesn’t want to be without him.

The thought causes her to shoot up from her spot.

“I’m going to bed.”

Later, Katniss lays in bed, sobbing into her pillow. She never thought about kissing before the Games and she hates to think that her first ones were under fear of dying. Pent-up guilt from making Peeta believe they were genuine rises up from her chest and she almost heaves at the thought.

There’s a dip on the opposite end of her mattress.

“They were real,” he tells her. “Because they were with you.”

++++++

Katniss lets him pick out the paint.

They are in the town’s newly built hardware store and she watches Peeta explore the selection of colors against a nearby wall. He obviously enjoys the chance to do something artistic, his fingers gliding over the paint sample sheets and picking out an array of greens and blues.

“What do you think?” he asks, his eyes dancing.

“Uh…” She looks at the blue paint sample that he holds out in front of her. “It’s nice.”

“Could you sleep peacefully in a room painted this color?” Peeta prods.

Katniss glances at the color again. While it is pleasant with its tinge of grey, she can’t see it in her bedroom.

She looks to his ocean eyes. “Maybe in the sitting room?”

Peeta beams. “Sounds perfect.”

They decide on a muted green for their bedrooms and the blue for the sitting room.

“Have you ever painted?” he asks as they make their way back home.

“Not as much as you, obviously.” His laugh takes her by surprise once again and Katniss doesn’t stop him when he moves a little closer. “We didn’t really think about painting our rooms in the Seam and I wasn’t in our house too long before the Quarter Quell.”

His gaze goes in the direction of where the Mellark Bakery once stood.

“My Dad used to paint the inside of the bakery every once in a while, just to freshen it up.”

She turns to him carefully.

“Did you want to check out the old property? I’m pretty sure that it’s yours now.”

Peeta is obviously torn. “I don’t know…”

Taking his hand, Katniss leads him to the bakery. It’s really just a burnt hovel at this point; no one dared touch it knowing that Peeta would eventually find his way home.

They stand together looking it over and Katniss can still recall how Prim would press her nose to the window, looking at all the pretty cakes. Or, how she would make trades for bread with Mr. Mellark.

Or, even how Peeta had once thrown that burnt bread and saved her family’s lives.

“I know this is it,” Peeta says softly. “But I can’t really associate this with what was my home.” He surveys the area, his hand going to a burnt-up doorway. “My Dad used to take our measurements here.”

The wood, however, is blackened so the marks are impossible to see.

“Do you think you might want to open it again?” she asks.

“Do you think I should?”

“The Mellark Bakery was an established business for years,” she says. “I think if you want to start again, it would be nice to have something that people can still come back to. Your father was always so kind to me even though I was just some girl from the Seam. He was nice to everyone, really—just like you. It would be nice to carry on his legacy.”

Peeta turns to her, appreciation in his gaze and her chest flutters at the earnestness of it.

“Would you help me if I did?”

“If you’d like,” she tells him. “Just don’t make me bake.”

“Of course,” Peeta agrees. Their hands are still joined, and he tightens his hold. “Let’s go home.”

++++++

“It’s very simple,” Peeta assures her. He pours the paint into the tray before presenting her with a long stick with a roller brush. “You just roll this along the tray and make sure that there’s no excess before painting the wall.”

Katniss snorts. “I can do this.” Peeta hands her the stick, an amused smile on his lips. She bristles at his teasing, wanting to smack the smile off his face. “You stick to your side and I’ll stick to mine.”

Except that it’s not as easy as it looks.

Her arms tire quickly and sometimes she doesn’t put enough pressure on the brush, so the paint looks uneven. Also, the paint is running out and her wall is only halfway done.

She can’t even look at Peeta’s wall.

Unfortunately, he looks at hers. “Not so easy, is it?”

Katniss fights the urge to roll her eyes.

Peeta looks so smug, but at the same time, he’s never looked so alive. She wants so much to keep that expression on his face and she’s not very good at understanding why.

Instead, she takes her roller brush and runs it down his body.

Peeta turns to her in shock. “What was that for?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” she retorts, trying not to laugh at the green line running from his head to his feet. “Just thought I’d remind you who’s boss around here.”

The paint tray is dumped over her head before she even realizes what happened.

Peeta steps back, unable to believe that he actually did it. “Katniss, I’m so sorry.”

The twitch of his mouth tells her otherwise.

Her hair is now soaked in green paint, the rest of it running down the front of her white shirt and jeans. Thankfully, it’s not on her face so she can clearly see how flummoxed he is.

She pounces immediately. “Come here!”

Peeta darts away, going to the other side of the room. “I didn’t mean it!”

“Sure.” Katniss clucks her tongue at him. “I know when you’re lying.”

She rushes over to where he is, but he runs away once again, avoiding her wrath. He’s standing next to the window and she walks stealthily towards him, like she’s on a hunt and he is her prey of choice.

Peeta is quick, but he’s heavy-footed. Her senses already pick up which way he is going to dash just by the slightest twinge of his foot.

“Give it up, Mellark,” she counters. “I’m going to get you.”

“Not yet, Everdeen!”

Peeta is off, rushing to the original wall where this all got started and Katniss lets out a laugh at his inability to just surrender. However, she loves the chase, not able to remember a time when she was this carefree or had this much fun.

They continue this way until they are both breathless, chests heaving as they stand on opposite walls.

“Are you ready to give in?” Katniss calls out.

“Not even,” Peeta tells her squarely.

However, when he makes a run for the wall next to the door, she’s beaten him to it, slamming the door shut to keep him from leaving.

Katniss approaches. “Give up.”

Slowly, Peeta raises his hands, a smile on his face.

“You win.”

Stopping in front of him, her hand goes to his hair, ruffling his locks. “I guess the odds were in my favor.”

He snorts at Effie’s infamous words coming out of her mouth.

Every Reaping, she and Gale would mock Effie’s Capitol accent, mouthing those same words—that is, until Prim’s name was called.

The laugh that escapes from her lips now falls as Peeta moves just a step closer to her.

“I surrender,” he whispers against her ear and her stomach flips at the huskiness of his words.

She is not sure who moves first, but suddenly their lips are mashed together, teeth almost clashing at the impact. Her hands fist in his hair, pulling roughly at his locks, feeling the softness underneath her fingers.

Katniss is lowered to the hardwood floor, their lips locked together as Peeta sweeps his tongue artfully into her mouth, his hands moving along the lines of her body. She doesn’t exactly have the most feminine figure, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he palms her breast, his thumb moving over a hardened nipple.

Peeta is magnetic; his touches drawing her closer to the hardness of his own body. Katniss follows the call from inside her core, reaching to the waistline of his jeans, her hands clumsily unbuttoning and unzipping until her fingers wrap around him.

“Katniss…” The call comes through clenched teeth. “… _fuck_.”

The curse, so foreign from his mouth, causes her to moan into their continuous kiss and she uses her free hand to tug at his jeans, demanding their removal. He helps her, quickly moving his hands off her body to pull his pants down to his ankles.

Her hands are moving down to her own bottoms, discarding them quickly and kicking them away.

Peeta rips his mouth away from hers, his blue eyes so dark that she almost wonders if he’s still in here. However, his hand reaches to cup her cheek and she relaxes into his touch.

There’s no going back now. They both want it—this closeness.

Peeta shifts and their pelvises meet, her hand moving to that once upon a time mysterious part of him.

She and his cock are now familiar, and she enjoys the feeling of him hard in her hand. He leans down to kiss her. This time it’s much gentler, but it stirs up that hunger nonetheless.

Katniss pulls away, their foreheads pressing together as she guides him towards her.

The anticipation is killing her and when she feels the head of his cock press against her core, she sighs into the feeling.

Then in one sudden thrust, Peeta is inside of her.

“Ahhh…” she cries out, her back arching.

The pain is sharper than she thought it would be.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta gasps, his eyes squeeze shut, and she knows he’s fighting the urge to rock against her.

They remain that way as she adjusts to him. He’s thick and she could feel every ridge as he’s encased inside her. She breathes out, letting her aching core relax around him.

It’s less than a minute before Katniss decides to end his torture.

“Move.”

Peeta meets her eyes and she nods, bringing him down to kiss her again.

He pulls out slightly before thrusting into her again.

This time, the feeling is nothing short of sensational.

She wants more…needs more and her legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to draw him in.

Katniss wants to feel every bit of him and in her lust-filled haze, she can hear herself begging… _harder_ … _faster_ … _deeper_. She doesn’t even recognize her own voice; so coarse from her cries of pleasure.

Peeta’s movements are sloppier—erratic—and she knows that this is it.

Her body is ready for him. She pushes upward, meeting his movements hurriedly, as his mouth moves to taste her skin.

As fast as it started, it ends quickly—with her name tumbling out of his mouth as he fills her with one final thrust.

They pull apart, breathing heavily, and Peeta looks to her.

“You didn’t…?”

She shakes her head, sated from the feeling of fullness.

“Lay back,” he suddenly commands.

Katniss follows, too tired to rebel. His hand reaches to pull her shirt up, exposing her simple cotton bra. Pulling a cup down, his lips go to her breast, tongue circling her nipple as he sucks.

She cries out as the pleasure shoots up her spine and his other hand goes between her thighs. His fingers drag along her coarse hair, running along her labia. He knows that she is still sensitive from their joining, so he avoids bringing his fingers inside her.

Instead, he teases along her sodden lips, soaked from her own arousal and his come, before his thumb moves against her clit, circling it gently.

“Fuck!” The word escapes her mouth and Peeta laughs gruffly.

“We just did that,” he taunts with a smirk. His cockiness seems to only arouse her more and soon she is asking for more, her moans growing louder until she is just a snap away from coming. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Kiss me,” she begs.

His mouth is on hers, roughly dragging his tongue to taste her as his thumb pushes against her bud.

Katniss comes suddenly, shouting into his mouth as her insides twitch and her orgasm takes over any coherent thought.

She shivers, her body thrumming and sensitive as Peeta cradles her tenderly.

“We’ll finish painting later,” he says, kicking off his pants

Carefully, Peeta lifts them off the ground and with her help opening the door, they head to her room. He places her carefully on the bed, helping her under her blankets.

“Wait here.” Peeta disappears and she can hear the sink running in the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth in his hands. “To clean up.”

Katniss takes it, gingerly wiping away the evidence of their time together. There is blood on the cloth, and she realizes that her first kiss is also her first lover.

And, she wants no one else but him.

However, Katniss isn’t ready to say so.

Instead, she invites him to sleep next to her for the indefinite future.

++++++

They finish painting his bedroom eventually.

It became an issue as every attempt to paint ended with them tumbling to the ground and Peeta thrusting into her eager body until they have their fill. They never get to painting the ceiling, instead keeping the mark as a way of commemorating that first time—strange sentimentalists they are.

When the room is completed, she decides to stay with him.

“It’s our room now,” he tells her, eyes not meeting hers, but the implication of it colors his cheeks.

There’s a shift in their relationship; not just the carnality of it, but also the beginnings of a friendship. The friendship that they tried to create during the Victory Tour never made it off the train, interrupted by the Quarter Quell and his hijacking.

They are starting new.

Friendship doesn’t come easy; they are eager lovers, but sometimes she retreats when her mind wanders to memories of Prim or even Rue. Sometimes, his eyes go dark as the urge to see her as a mutt takes him over.

The first time, Katniss is unable to control his anger and she crosses over to Haymitch’s house, asking for help.

Their mentor has enough tact to not mention that she is wearing next to nothing when she comes to his door, or the fact that he entered a room where their clothes are toss haphazardly on the floor, as intertwined as the people they belong to.

At Effie’s insistence, he sits them down and has an awkward, stilted conversation about the relationship between men and women. He also sputters out to her that Effie is sending something to keep her from having children—for now.

Peeta reveals later that Haymitch has another blundering discussion about how to treat your girlfriend with respect and not some girl who you meet in a slag heap.

“Have you ever been with anyone else?” she asks after he tells her.

They are in bed; it’s been five months since that first time, and they have picked their sides of the bed—her on the left and him on the right. Their clothing and mementos are placed together; she keeps her locket and pearl from him in her side table drawer; he keeps his sketch books along with letters from other Victors in his. A recent picture of Annie and Finnick’s son, Finian or Finn, is pinned to the board in their kitchen.

“No…there were offers, but I only really look at one girl.” His gaze goes to her and she busies herself with folding back their quilt over their laps while scooting closer to him. “And, you?”

“You were my first…everything,” she admits. “And, there Gale for just a bit—it wasn’t the same though. He never really saw me as a girl, until someone else did.”

“Who?”

“Darius.” Peeta stiffens; she hates to bring up the name as it only brings up memories of the man who had suffered such an inhumane death. “He used to flirt with me and then Gale noticed that I had actual female parts.”

“I know you have female parts,” Peeta tells her, trying to lighten the mood.

Katniss snorts.

“Oh, I know you do.” Her mouth just grazes over his. “And, those offers? Who did they come from?”

“Girls that used to come into the bakery…most of them were after my older brothers but would sometimes default to me if I was there,” he explained. “And when I was around thirteen, Delly Cartwright once asked for a kiss.”

“Huh.” A grunt slips her lips. “And were you interested?”

“No, I was too nervous for any of that,” he assures her. “There was only one girl I really wanted to kiss, but she never really looked at me.”

“Well, she’s looking now,” she says before silencing him with her lips and her hands.

+++++++

It comes as a surprise as they passed their first year together to find Delly Cartwright sitting in their kitchen, a cup of tea— _her_ tea—in her hands. Peeta is sitting across, a plate of buns placed on the table between them.

She had spent the morning in the woods, her hunt fruitless as the weather gets colder. Her frustration is palpable at having spent her first waking hours at a hopeless hunt when she could have been astride Peeta and riding herself into completion.

Johanna had sent her a lovely book wrapped in plain packing paper for her birthday and the drawings had been…instructional.

It matters very little as she sees the golden-haired woman in her kitchen. She is giggling at something Peeta is telling her, her soft curls bouncing along her shoulders.

Katniss clears her throat and Peeta looks up, his eyes brightening at the sight of her. He stands and immediately goes to her, pressing a greeting kiss to her lips.

“How was your hunt?”

“All the animals were smart enough to stay in their burrows,” she tells him sullenly. “I was not.”

“Katniss!” Delly is pulling her into her embrace, pressing her abundant chest to Katniss’ meager one. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You’re back,” Katniss replies weakly. “Where have you been?”

Delly practically forces her down into a chair, pulling up her own beside Katniss’, and proceeds to tell her about her trip around the Districts. She had only spent a short time in District 12, right before Katniss returned with Haymitch, before deciding to leave.

She regales them with tales of visiting District 4, mentioning that she had checked out the facility Katniss’ mother worked in and informing her that her mother was doing well. Delly hesitantly mentions that her mother has a companion—a doctor whom she works with—and seems happy.

Katniss doesn’t blame her mother for wanting to find someone; the gap between them too wide for them to mend. She knows that it can get lonely and it has been painful since they lost Prim. However, Katniss can’t help but feel irritated that she is finding this news out from a third party.

Delly also tells them about meeting Annie and Finn; they are planning to come visit in the winter as Annie would like her son to see snow. There’s more than enough room in their home and Peeta tells them that he will write to Annie to offer her a place.

“How exciting!” Delly claps her hands in happiness and Katniss reminds herself that this girl is her friend—an ally. “I’d love to plan some sort of party for them.”

Who does Delly think she is?

Annie is her friend, and this is her home…and she is drinking her tea…and Peeta is her…

Something snaps and Katniss jerks up from her seat, startling the other two.

“I’m feeling a headache coming on—I’m going to lie down.”

She rushes out of the kitchen, stomping up the stairs like a petulant child.

In their room, Katniss flops onto the mattress, crossing her arms as she stares up at the ceiling—the mark mocking her jealousy.

She can admit to herself that sting of jealousy seeing another woman in her home with Peeta.

However, as Peeta enters the room, her mouth tightens, and she presses down her insecurities.

“Delly is gone,” he tells her carefully. “She says she hopes that you feel better.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t invite her to stay for dinner,” Katniss retorts sourly.

“There goes that sarcasm that we all know and love,” Peeta says.

“Sorry, I’m not sunny like she is,” she mutters.

“I’ve never asked you to be…what is going on?”

Katniss sits up, avoiding his eyes. “I’m going to try to hunt again.”

She shoves past him and out of the room. Her feet practically fly off the steps and it is a miracle that she hasn’t taken a tumble.

Peeta follows her down the stairs. “Don’t you dare walk out on me!”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she snaps back. “I didn’t fight in a rebellion to be another piece in someone’s else game!”

Katniss pulls the door open, stepping out onto their porch. Haymitch is sitting on his, a wood piece in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Their eyes meet and a smirk begins to rise on his mouth. “Don’t!”

She stomps down her porch as Peeta comes out of the house.

“Katniss! We’re not done talking!”

“I am!”

Her feet pick up speed and she starts to run, passing the archway of Victors’ Village. Behind her, she can hear Haymitch telling Peeta to ‘get his ass in gear and go after her’.

She doesn’t want to be followed. She only wants to quiet her thoughts. The woods are her solace and Katniss will be damned before she’ll let someone else try to invade a place that is all hers—that includes Peeta.

“Katniss!” Peeta is gaining on her and she pumps her legs. “Stop!”

She ignores him, continuing the chase until they reach the fencing. It has yet to be torn down and she doesn’t mind because the children of District 12 would come running, scaring game off. Then, where would she be?

Crouching under the fence, Katniss gains some traction avoiding the man chasing after her.

She continues further in; it’s late in the afternoon, but it’s already getting dark.

The dark is not what scares her; it’s what she is running from that does.

Katniss settles down on a fallen tree, sitting on the gnarled trunk.

In all the mess, she's forgotten her bow and arrows.

Laughing to herself, she kicks the dirt in front of her, grounding her boots into the earth and trying to not imagine the face of a voluptuous blonde.

“I don’t think it’s very funny to make me chase after you.”

Katniss shoots up in shock, finding Peeta behind her, panting with anger.

“Go away.” She steps back. “Go home.”

“Not without you,” he tells her. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I am not!” Another step back. “Will you please leave?”

“Why?” Peeta approaches her, and her legs back against the trunk. “Do you want to mope in the place where you and Gale used to spend so much time alone?”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Delly was talking about seeing Gale in District 2,” Peeta tells her. “How well he’s doing and that there’s another girl—that’s when you stood up.” He steps back, his shoulders slumping. “I thought that maybe you were not quite over whatever you two were.”

“I don’t even remember Delly talking about that,” she shouts. “I heard nothing but her plans for a party for our friends!.”

“You never listen, Katniss,” he says, his eyes flashing. “Then, you have the nerve to be angry at me about some stupid party—”

“Annie is my friend! And the party is at our house! And you are my—”

Katniss stops, catching herself and turning away from the man sitting on the tree trunk.

Instead, she chooses to rest back against a tree, nestling herself between the rivulets of its trunk.

“You’re jealous.” Peeta stands, approaching stealthily. “That’s why you went upstairs!” He laughs, relief in his voice. “I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me!” Tears spring from her eyes and Katniss hates herself for being so weak. “I’ve already lost Prim and my mother. I’m not about to lose yo—”

“Katniss!” Peeta is standing in front of her. “Look at me!”

She’s stubborn, turning her head away in refusal.

He doesn’t back down instead grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his blazing eyes.

“I said look at me.” His voice is sharp…demanding—and something stirs in her stomach.

“Stubborn woman. You will never lose me.”

Then, his mouth is on hers, hot and insistent. Her resolve wavers and she surrenders, a moan allowing him to plunge his tongue inside her.

Fuck—she’s drenched immediately.

Peeta is pressing himself against her, his hands already at her waistband to pull down her pants down, panties and all. She helps him, kicking her socks and boots off, her mouth wandering down to the juncture of his neck, sucking, biting…marking.

He doesn’t bother to remove his own pants, instead unzipping and pulling his cock out.

Her mouth waters at the sight and in one smooth motion, he sheaths himself into her wet and willing cunt.

Her legs wrap around his waist, and she grits her teeth at the almost painful pleasure of taking him so deep. She kisses him harshly, arm wrapping around his shoulder and her hand in his hair, gripping him savagely.

The rough fabric grounds against her cunt and it makes her dizzy. She’s going to come soon; there’s no other choice but to come around his cock. To let him mark and fill her.

There is no other choice but him.

Maybe it’s always been that way.

Katniss peaks, her insides spasming around him, and she wails up at the dusky sky, seeing nothing but those pinks and purples. He follows, coming to head and in one thrust, soaks her insides with his seed.

Lowering herself to her feet, her eyes meet his and he pulls her to him.

“Can we just establish one thing?” he asks, and she nods, sagging against his chest. “You’re mine.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous,” she says softly. “I don’t want to lose you. I want us to be this close—always.”

Peeta kisses the top of her head, breathing her in. “Always.”

Katniss dresses, and they return—mussed but sated—to Victors’ Village.

Haymitch takes one look at them before turning towards his door.

“I’m calling Effie! I’m not having another talk with you!”

The door bangs behind him.

“Come on,” he tells her, leading her back to their home.

 _Their_ home.

When they enter, she sees it with new eyes. The serene blue of their living room, with its warm hearth and plush furniture. Her eyes go to the vase of wildflowers that Peeta always gathers for her in the middle of their coffee table. The floors that they sweep and clean on Saturdays…the shining bannister…and their lush green bedroom.

Peeta guides her upstairs and to their room where he reverently undresses her. She wears his shirt to bed, laying her head down on her pillow while he undresses.

He is beautiful. His body is broad and muscular, his skin golden and she marvels at every bit of him. Katniss knows he is still ashamed of his prosthetic, but it has never hindered him and has become part of the man she loves.

Peeta slips into bed facing her and she holds her hand out; he takes it immediately joining their fingers.

“You love me, real or not real?”

Katniss crosses to his side, laying her head to his chest.

“Real.”

++++++

“Katniss.”

Her eyes open and she finds Peeta staring down at her, a smile on his handsome face. He’s grown a bit of a beard and she reaches to cradle his cheek in her hand.

“I came home for lunch and found you snoozing,” he tells her, helping her sit up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she assures him. “I want to show you something.”

Peeta mouth widens, his eyes full at the sight of her.

“After, can we go to bed? We have enough time before picking up the kids—to talk.”

Katniss looks to him, a small smile rising. “Sure. Talk.”

She leads him out of the room, passed Willow’s garishly lavender room—the paint job that led to Rye. His room is next to his sister’s; a deep turquoise, picked one day at the hardware store as Peeta bought touch-up paint for the bakery floor.

They enter the last room, brightly lit since it has windows on its side.

“I was thinking yellow,” Katniss tells him. “Not like dandelion yellow, but something softer.”

“Why would we need to paint this room—”

Peeta stops, turning to her.

She’s known him for so long that she can actually see his thought process. He’s going over her strange cravings, the sudden tiredness, and her neediness when it comes to him—actually, that has stayed the same.

“We should’ve never let Rye pick out a color for his room.” She goes to him. “Are you happy…about this?”

Peeta lifts her easily off the ground, he insisted on carrying her into their home after they got their marriage license…then when she told him about Willow…then Rye…and now this third one.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Katniss nods, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Tell Haymitch to pick up the kids.”

He smirks. “Oh, he’s going to love that.”

**FIN.**

*Just another note—Delly is not after Peeta; she’s just very friendly.


End file.
